Chapter 10
Sabine
Okay, maybe it was unfair of me to use my charm to make Gwen think I was a human lie detector, but the shocked look on her face was just too good.
This little newcomer was trouble, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.
That was all. No other reason. Definitely not the thrill of her pinking cheeks, her ragged breaths, or her parted lips. Nope.
Gwen threw her arms up in the air. “Fine. I was trying to borrow back my phone that you stole from me.” She pointed at me accusatorially, as if her presence here were my fault. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “No need to mind-ninja me, Sabine,” she said. “That’s the truth.”
“I can’t mind-ninja you,” I admitted. “I can make my eyes flash silver for a second though. It was a charm we all learned in middle school when our musical one year was Cats.”
It took a second for her brain to catch up to what I was saying. “You know, just when I thought you couldn’t say anything more bizarre to me, you go and say that.”
I laughed lightly and pushed off the tree. “What can I say? Witch life is bizarre.”
Gwen pouted as I climbed the steps toward her. “Are you going to rat me out to Dagmar?”
“No,” I replied, pointing to Hera in the trees. “But she definitely is.”
Gwen groaned. “Please tell me that is not a shapeshifting human-owl hybrid.”
“No, she’s fully an owl,” I said. “A witch’s familiar. Dagmar can read her mind, though, and Hera is completely loyal to her.”
Gwen looked up at the owl and clasped her hands together. “There’s no way I could possibly bribe you to not tell her about this, could I?” she begged.
I laughed. “You could try giving her a mouse.”
“Where would I find an—ah!” Gwen leaped backward as I offered her a dead field mouse. “Was that thing just in your pocket?”
“I found it by the tool shed. I was going to use it for a healing spell, but you can have it if you want.”
“Keep your dead mouse,” she said, shaking out her hands like I’d just done the creepiest thing imaginable.
With a shrug, I shoved the mouse back into my pocket. “You’ll get used to it.”
“People keep saying that. But I don’t believe any of you.”
“Let’s get out of here,” I urged, nodding toward the path back to camp. “Hera might take pity on us yet. We didn’t actually go into Dagmar’s cabin after all.”
“I hope so,” Gwen grumbled. “I still don’t understand why I just can’t have my phone.”
“What do you need it for?”
“Emergencies.”
I crossed my arms. “What emergencies?”
“What if I were injured?”
“We have the best healer on the East Coast. Helga could practically raise you from the dead. There is no injury she couldn’t fix.”
Gwen gave me a deadpan look. “What about checking in with my family?”
“There are land lines in the rec center and mess hall if you want to make a call,” I replied. “And we also do fortnightly letters home so you can keep up with your correspondence.”
“Correspondence? I can’t exactly post a handwritten letter to Instagram, can I?” At my confused expression, her eyes widened. “You do have Instagram, don’t you?”
I shook my head. “There are a lot of things that we can’t post about our town,” I said. “Most of us find social media futile and frustrating. See? You don’t need a phone.” I reached out to pat her on the shoulder, and she reared away like my fingers had the plague. “It was one dead mouse.”
“That’s all it takes.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know,” she whined.
“And it died of natural causes,” I added as if that would help.
“I don’t even want to know how you know that.” She let out a disgruntled huff. “This place is making me crazy. I also use my phone for winding down at the end of the day. You know, like, listening to podcasts and reading books on my Kindle app.”
“We have a bookshelf,” I added smugly.
“Or watching movies.”
“You can fall asleep listening to your bunkmates telling stories,” I countered, and she rubbed her forehead like I was giving her a migraine. “I promise the phone detox will get easier. Do you want me to concoct a potion to ease the cravings?”
Her face puckered like she’d just bitten into a lemon. “What do you put into a potion like that?”
“You’ll learn in potions class this afternoon, actually,” I said. “Camp is very useful. I know some of it seems impractical.”
“Like archery,” she muttered.
“Like archery,” I echoed with a chuckle. “But some of the potions will be incredibly useful in your lifetime. Like how to cure a hangover. Or location spells for finding lost keys. Or warding away pests.”
“Actually, I need your help with the pest one, STAT.” She slapped a mosquito that landed on her arm. “I am being eaten alive.”
“Deal.” My eyes dropped to the new friendship bracelet on her wrist in the colors of the pansexual pride flag. “Nice bracelet, by the way,” I added and delighted in the way her ears turned a shade of scarlet.
I tried to adjust my thick stack of bracelets to display the one in the lesbian flag colors more prominently.
Very subtle, Sabine.
As the field came back into view, I saw that her bunkmates all sat in a circle doing divining magic. A very clever time for her to sneak away.
Gwen started walking out across the field when I called, “Still on for magic lessons tonight after dinner?”
Pausing, she looked over her shoulder at me, her sour expression softening ever so slightly. “As long as you don’t bring any more dead animals in your pockets, then yes. And wash your hands!”